


Whatever the Fuck He Wants

by lovessong



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8463130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovessong/pseuds/lovessong
Summary: "To be fair, it’s not the first time Rizzo’s dick has been hard while he’s on national TV, not by a long shot."
I can only blame the Cubs. That bullpen cuddling was irresistible.





	

To be fair, it’s not the first time Rizzo’s dick has been hard while he’s on national TV, not by a long shot. But it might be the first time that it’s stayed hard through a half hour of running around the field hugging the guys and getting interviewed, saying the same shit over and over again. 

He’s not complaining. It’s the best shit he’s ever gotten to say, probably the best shit he’ll ever be able to say in front of a camera for the rest of his life. He might sound like a fool, but who fucking cares. And whatever, his dick isn’t any more distracting than the buzzing joy in his belly and in his chest, or the way he’s still half-stunned by disbelief.

But he’s still hard in the locker room, soaked with champagne, and he’s still hard stripped down to his jock. And then he’s hard in the showers, finally alone with the guys, and Ross is laughing at him.

“Got a little excited there, kid?” Ross looks down at Rizzo’s dick. Rizzo’s caught Ross breaking locker room protocol to steal a glance before, but he’s never been so open about it before. 

Rizzo shoves Ross. “Fuck off. Any guy in here who’s not at least half-chubbed has got to have a blockage in his pipes.” 

More than one guy is already jerking off, taking the champagne ritual to its inevitable conclusion. Ross is hard, too - not as much as Rizzo is, but he’s getting there. Ross says, “You’d better take care of that now.”

Rizzo shrugs Ross off. “Whatever, man. My dick and I are enjoying the moment. It’s not every day you have your first ever orgasm as a World Series champion.”

Ross says, “Sure, you say that now. But when we go back out there, you’re not going to get a minute alone for the next six hours. You’re not gonna want to try to squeeze one out on the plane, or in front of half of drunk Chicago when the plane lands.”

Rizzo grins, his mouth well ahead of his brain. “Maybe I’ll get off now, _and_ on the plane, _and_ in front of half of Chicago. Wanna help me get started?” 

He’s not the kind of guy who propositions teammates in the locker room, but this is not a normal day. And Ross doesn’t look pissed off. He seems surprised, maybe, but not in a bad way. Rizzo licks his lips, and realizes that he’s watching Ross’s mouth. He pulls his focus back up to Ross’s eyes, crinkled and warm.

“Sure, kid. If you think you can handle this championship action right here.” And Ross thrusts his hips a few times, which should be ridiculous. But Rizzo has to take a breath, hold himself back from something - something more revealing, and more embarrassing, than a mutual jerk in the showers, which is all this is. Anything more than that, he’s not going to think about tonight. Tonight’s for having whatever the fuck he wants, and Ross’s cock is gorgeous, so there’s no shame in wanting.

Even so, Rizzo turns away a little, getting a little distance and presenting his own cock at its best angle. He scrubs his hands through his hair and blinks water out of his eyes. “Get the fuck over here, then. We can’t stay in the shower forever, they’ll start to think we’re doing something other than getting clean.”

Ross moves quietly for a big guy. His hands are suddenly on Rizzo’s hips, startling Rizzo enough that he almost jumps. Ross says right into Rizzo’s ear, “I don’t give a damn what they think we’re doing in here, and by the time I’m done with you, you won’t either.”

Rizzo relaxes back against Ross’s solid bulk, appreciating the chance to let someone else bear his weight. He doesn’t get that very often - not when he’s naked, anyway. Ross’s hand on his dick isn’t a surprise, but it feels good enough that Rizzo lets out a grunt. 

He winces and starts to look around to see if anyone has noticed them, but Ross gives his hip a hard squeeze and says, “Focus, Rizzo.” And then Rizzo has no choice about paying attention to anything but the way Ross is working him over. Ross knows what he’s doing with those big steady hands.

Ross brings him almost to a peak, and then slows down to draw the moment out. Rizzo can feel Ross’s cock against his ass. He shifts his weight a little, leaning back and widening his stance to let it slide between his asscheeks. Ross sucks in his breath, and his grip on Rizzo’s dick stutters a little.

Ross finds his pace again, and his voice has gone low and smoky. “There you go, that's what you needed. I’ve got you.”

It’s almost too much, almost overwhelming, with Ross’s hand assured and firm on his dick, and Ross’s cock slipping along his ass. Rizzo has a flash-quick image of what it would be like to have that cock pushing him open, pressing inside, and that’s all it takes. He shoots all over the shower wall. 

It doesn’t take much more for Ross, either, before he comes on Rizzo’s back. He steps back a little and guides Rizzo back under the water so they both can rinse off. They’re the last ones left in the showers, and they’ll have to actually get clean before they go back out there to celebrate hard enough to get dirty all over again.


End file.
